


orbital

by alchamess



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PTSD, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-08-31 22:23:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8596081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alchamess/pseuds/alchamess
Summary: the chronicling of a man who lost everything in space - and then found it again





	1. a priori

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know how far into sheith we will be delving from here. i mostly wanted to write a capture fic. i have plans to get to sheith though, mark my words.

They took his sense of time when they abandoned him in that cramped enclosure. Shiro lived within the parameters of four metal walls and the cover of darkness. It was probable that the room was purposely kept cold to break them all for the sick entertainment of the Galran empire, but equally so that their alien captors quite simply didn’t give a fuck. Dr. Holt and Matt both attempted to cheer the atmosphere with intellectual discussions of space theory, alien cultures, and hyper-developed tech, and he did his best to keep up, but they were a family of geniuses who could easily outstrip him in any intellectual forum. He took to running his body through training drills while they spoke.

Trapped and seeking any sort of solace, Shiro would endlessly feel along the cold panelling until his fingers found the hair-thin outline of the doorframe. It gave him peace of mind to know that there was a way out, a way back, a way home, a way to show up at  _ his _ doorstep again with flowers and the sun warm on his back.

Some days (Afternoons? Nights? The concept of an internal clock was so easily sucked into the void of space.), he woke up to the gentle ringing of Keith’s laugh.

He spent more time by the door on those days.

They stayed sequestered for a desperate expanse of time and grew desperate in that sequestered expanse of time. Darkness spawned fear in them where fear had not been.

When the door opened, even the dim glow of the hallway caused everyone to recoil from the visual whiplash. The foreboding silhouettes of Galran soldiers caused them to recoil further.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for being bad at updates - i have a 9 to 5 job and inspiration is fleeting

The prisoners filed out into the arena, shackled, starving, and dazzled by the stadium lighting. The space was sprawling, with three looming metal spires and hundreds of stands closing in on them. For all the prisoners, Shiro included, the roaring stands of alien faces and the sudden open area was incredibly disorienting. He swayed on his feet, dizzy from the sound of jeering.

A Galran voice boomed over the loudspeakers, promising entertainment and bloodshed: the main entertainment of any major society whose main purpose was to raze and destroy. Fresh meat, he called, for the colosseum’s esteemed killer, Myzax, whose strength and skill on the field would make easy work of these pitiful captures.

Shiro and his fellow prisoners didn’t understand, and then they did, and when they did, many began to panic. He could hear someone behind him wail. There was a loud BANG from the other end of the arena as something large slammed against the gate on the other end, which made the blood drain from Shiro’s face; whatever was behind that door was much larger than he was, and he was perhaps the largest creature here.

One of the escorts grabbed for Matt, forcing him forward to be the first blood, and Shiro saw every single time he’d effortlessly thrown his friend onto the Garrison’s training room floor flash before his eyes. Poor Matt was terrified (of him) when Shiro shoved him to the ground and terrified (for him) when the Galra soldiers wrested him off to fight.

He had no idea of knowing that they would take his name from him when they thrust a menacing blade into his hands and threw him to the dogs. He had no idea of knowing that Myzax was ten feet of hulking goliath with a weapon his sword would be virtually useless against. The only thing he knew was that if he did not survive this, neither would his friends.

He won.

Their Champion, they called him, as he stood, panting, victorious. Blood roared in his ears louder than the audience as sweat dripped down his face. His vision blurred. He collapsed.

Their Champion, they would call him as he woke up hours later, in a soft bed with dressed wounds and not a friend in sight.


End file.
